The Postman
by Ironlumberjack
Summary: A tale of adventure and daring in this RWBY prologue.
1. Prologue

Legends, stories scattered through time. Daring tales of heroes and heroines, who forged a path for the world we know today. For generations these legends have entertained, captivated, and inspired even the greatest among our ranks. How quickly then do we forget the most humble among us.

This, is a story about a time before scrolls, before kingdoms, before hunters and huntresses. The hero of our story is no legendary champion by any means. You'll never see his likeness in a statue, nor find his name in any history book. However, he was indeed legendary.

The snow was waist deep and crusted over with ice. It had been falling constantly. Night and day for almost two weeks. Howling winds streamed past the house and shook the barn every night. I was just a little girl when he first arrived. Our house was on the very edge of town, so we were the first to spot him through the blinding blizzard. Just a tiny, dark speck on the horizon. My brother, Timmy, was the first to see him.

"Momma, momma! Come quick! There's a man walking to town," he cried.

"Shut your mouth child. No one with their wits about them would be foolhardy enough to walk through _this_ storm," she scolded him.

Curiously, I went to the window. At first I could barely see him, the fog obscuring my vision. I squinted into the storm, and there he was. The vague outline of a very bulky man. It was hours before I could see that he had a longsword on his back or that he was limping.

"Momma! Tim's right! I think he needs help," I called to her.

"Well if I'll be a blue eyed monkey. Fetch your father let's get that fool inside," she instructed.

My father and I rushed out to meet him. I tried to keep up as I waddled through the ice encrusted snow. Just before we managed to reach the man, he collapsed onto the ground. My father was just strong enough to carry him indoors before the wind kicked up again. I was just able to close the heavy wooden door to our cottage, throwing all my body weight against the force of the gales.

Even out of the storm, I could barely make out our guests' features. A thick, maroon scarf was wrapped tightly around his face. Ice crystals formed a thin film on all of his clothing. Everything from his heavy woolen coat to his heavy leather boots was frozen over. That's when I saw it. A heavy canvas bag hanging around his left shoulder. Curiously I reached out for it.

"Don't touch that," my mother scolded. "We don't know who he is, whatever's in there could be dangerous," she scowled.

My father had already hung the stranger's sword up on a peg on the wall. "We have to get him out of those wet clothes. Foolish boy'll catch his death of cold," my father growled.

I ripped his scarf off of his face. He was a plain looking man, pale sallow cheeks flushed due to the storm. Even with the cold, he was still clammy. His colorless face was further accentuated by his closely cropped red hair. From the few days of growth on his face, it looked as if he'd been in that storm for a while. We stripped him of his coat and boots, down to a plain white undershirt and wrapped him in a blanket. My father laid him down in a chair by our hearth. His bulky woolen coat dripped little puddles where it hung in the corner of the room.

My mother turned to my father for council. "Who do you think he is? Reckon he's with the army?" she whispered to him.

My father turned over his coat scouring it for any symbols. "Well, I ain't heard of any army that wears plain brown coats. No indication of rank or identification. Could be he's a mercenary?" he pondered.

"I'm not a mercenary," a strange voice shivered.

We all turned to see the stranger. He had clasped his blanket even tighter and was trying to huddle around the hearth.

"My name is Arthur Periwinkle, and I've got letters to deliver," he sniffled.

"You _what?_ " my father practically shouted.

"I've got letters to deliver. It's my job," he punctuated his statement with a deafening sneeze.

"Sir, you'd best explain yourself. What are you doing delivering letters in a snowstorm?" my father thundered. At this point, he'd already fetched his hatchet. His knuckles on his right hand turning white, I could see a vein in his head that looked as if it was about to pop.

"Sir. I want you to know, I don't mean to hurt any of you. If you look in my bag, there are letters there. I was on my way to Avalon when this storm came about me. Thank you kindly for taking me into your home though," he quickly explained all the while shaking from either fear or the cold.

My father sat in the chair opposite of him, still eying him warily. "Alright, stranger,"

 _"Arthur,_ " he interjected. "My friends call me Arthur," he added apologetically.

My father cleared his throat, trying to remain serene. " _Arthur_ ," he added almost spitefully. "Why don't you start from the beginning, where are you from?"

"Well I was born in the small village of Glen to a pair of bakers," he began.


	2. Chapter 1

Five months earlier, a doe eyed young man named Arthur Periwinkle scrambled through the local marketplace. Behind him was his cousin Percy and a very angry merchant.

"Come back here you despicable thieves! Percy Lavandala I swear if I ever catch up to you I'll wipe that smirk off your face!" the merchant huffed after them.

" _If_ you can ever catch me old man!" his cousin cheered.

"Why do you feel the need to taunt him Percy?" he sniveled, tears streaming down his face. Arthur looked back to see the portly merchant closing in quickly on Percy. All Arthur could focus on was how enraged he looked and his impending punishment. That's how he ended up running face first into the breastplate of Tristain Arasione. The self-proclaimed Captain of the Village Militia. Arthur stumbled back, landing on his butt.

Arthur stared up at the captain. His deep purple eyes burned into Arthur's soul. The Captain was tall, broad chested and handsome. He was dressed head to toe in his gilded plate armor, a relic of his time in the army. A massive war hammer hung on a sling on his back. His fair, shoulder length hair illuminated by the sun. Instinctively, Arthur looked at his hook of a left hand. He knew it was rude but something inside of him was always afraid that the Captain would rake his face with it.

"Arthur, what do you think you're doing?" he scolded almost coyly.

"Stop them! Help!" the merchant called from behind.

Percy, ever confident, began running backwards. "Come on old man! You can't possibly be _that_ fat!" he taunted.

Captain Aransione stuck out his right arm, causing Percy to run into it. "Hello Percy. How're you this fine morning?" he asked mockingly.

Even though he was still reeling from his injury, Percy managed to crack a smirk. "Good morning to you, Captain Aransione. My dear cousin and I were simply out for a brisk morning walk, when we were falsely accused of theft. I assume you're as shocked as me," Percy stated sarcastically.

" _You_ , a thief? I'm dumbfounded. Next thing they'll be saying is that you're a lying, cheating, lecherous drunk," Captain Arasione quipped.

Deftly, Percy leaped off of Captain Arasione's arm. "A drunk? Why I never touch the stuff sir!" he answered in an almost militaristic fashion.

At this time, the merchant had caught up to the three of them. Red faced and puffing heavily he looked as if he could've killed both Percy and Arthur with his meaty hands. "Captain! That scoundrel stole a ring from my stall!" he declared between gasps.

Captain Aransione shot Percy a quizzical look before hooking the back of his shirt with his left hand.

Percy squirmed in protest before calling out "Hey!"

Ignoring him, the Captain used his good hand to search around in Percy's cloak pockets before producing a glimmering gold ring adorned with a small red gem. "Is this what you're looking for sir?" the Captain extended his hand to the merchant.

"Yes, that's it," he practically drooled. The seemingly incandescent gem reflecting in his wide eyes. With a swipe of his plump hand he quickly put the ring into his pouch. "Thank you Captain. Now I want these two villains thrown into the dungeon for the rest of their mortal days!" he shrieked all the while perspiring. Finally noticing the copious amount of sweat droplets running down his pudgy cheeks, he produced a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at his forehead.

"Fear not sir, I'll see to it myself that these two are punished to the furthest extent of the law," the Captain smiled slyly.

Moments later Arthur and Percy were sitting on a crude wooden bench, staring through a door made of thick iron bars. This scene was all too familiar to them. The Captain pacing back and forth, hook in hand. With every turn, his white cape swirled behind him. His purple eyes filled with sorrow and anguish.

"Every week with you two it's something different! Scheming money off of drunks, posing as lords, where does it end with you two?" he roared. "This time you've gone _too_ far. Outright theft from a merchant in broad daylight? What were you thinking?"

Percy, as always was the first of the two to talk. "Eh, it looked shiny and I wanted it," he shrugged.

The Captain pivoted to face Percy. " _That's_ it Percy, you're not getting off with a slap on the wrist this time. Two days in the stocks," he bellowed. "And _you_ ," he shot a finger towards Arthur. "Arthur Periwinkle, you'll be joining him," he declared.

Arthur's blood ran cold. His mother would have a fit if she knew that he'd been unwittingly helping Percy again. He could barely imagine what her reaction would be to him being imprisoned. "But sir, I wasn't. I mean I-," he stammered inanely.

"I don't want to hear it. Both of you are spending the night in here. Tomorrow I'm marching you out to town square where you'll stay from dawn until dusk," he snarled. He began to walk away before turning back to Arthur and Percy. "Boys, I don't want to do this. But you've given me no choice. I have to start punishing you at some point. Now get some sleep, you have a long day ahead of you," he lamented.

"Well you heard him, better get some shut eye," Percy swung his legs around colliding with Arthur. He slumped off of the bench, curling up on the cold stone floor. "Night Arthur," Percy yawned.

"Goodnight Percy," Arthur whimpered. He closed his eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep as his stomach churned. All he could think about was how scared he was for tomorrow. Eventually, he managed to fall into a tireless sleep. He awoke to someone shouting from beyond the dungeon walls. Picking himself off of the stone floor, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes to what appeared to be screams of terror.

"What time is it? Where's Captain Aransione?" Percy mumbled, rising from the bench.

At that moment, the Captain walked into the dungeon. He looked haggard, his face was long and large bags under his eyes. In his right hand he carried his war hammer. Sweat rolled down his now pale face as he eyed the two. "Boys! The village is under attack by grimm," he declared shakily as he sat down his war hammer. His right hand fumbled with a set of keys on his belt before unlocking the cell door. "I need you two to go to the next town over. Get reinforcements," he explained.

"What grimm? Here? Let us help you defend the town!" Arthur snapped.

"No, you're the fastest runners in the town. We need you to get our message to Carlisle. Tell them that Glen is under attack. Now go!" He roared, practically thrusting the two out the door.

The sight that awaited the cousins was bleak to say the least. All around them, cottages were in various states of ruin. Bodies of their friends and neighbors littered the ground. Bits and pieces of people they knew scattered about. Somewhere in the distance they could hear farmers and guardsmen all clashing with the ravenous monsters.

"Arthur what are you _doing?_ We have to get out of here!" Percy screamed.

With unrivaled speed the duo took off away from the village. They traveled as fast and far as their legs could carry them before they were within a dense forest. Arthur ran faster than he had ever been able to in his life. His body ached, his muscles burned, his legs felt like gelatin. However the whole time he kept taking those long strides, moving further and further down the dirt path. It wasn't long before he had outpaced Percy all together. He looked behind him to see if his cousin was still following, only to see darkness and mighty oak trees all around.

In what felt like minutes, Arthur was already on the outskirts of Carlisle. Quickly, he was stopped by a sleepy looking guardsman with a lantern.

Raising his lantern, Arthur could now see that it was hanging from a spear. "What do you want?" he half yawned.

Arthur's chest burned, his lungs were on fire and his speech was ragged. Even so he managed to choke out, "Glen. Under. Attack. Grimm. Help," he could barely stay standing before the guard was off.

Beyond the darkness he heard the guard ringing a bell, summoning everyone to the center of town. Within a matter of minutes, a ragtag militia had formed. Men armed with crude weapons all riding mighty steeds. In an instant he was pulled up onto the back of a horse.

"Good job son, you did your part," someone dressed in armor assured him.

They reached Glen within a matter of moments, soon the mounted militia was descending upon the vile creatures of grimm with extreme prejudice. The village was somehow even more demolished than before. Anyone that had survived the initial attack had rallied at town hall. There, farmers mostly armed with pitch forks and lumber axes put up a valiant defense but were quickly dying left and right.

Arthur leaped off of the horse in a desperate attempt to find not only Captain Arasione but his mother as well. Adrenaline and fear coursed through his veins. All he could think of was these beasts tearing his mother apart. Digging their wretched claws into her and ripping her in half. Without even breaking stride, he recovered a dinted sword from a dead guardsman. More of a bar of iron with a grip, the sword was obviously in disrepair. Whoever had owned it last had never taken the time to clean or sharpen the thing. Even now, chips flecked off as Arthur ran further into town. Illuminated by the orange-red glow of the torchlight he saw his foe. Three hulking beowolves. Their fur coal black and their eyes a bright and shimmering red. He leapt into the air before one could even see him and drove his blade straight into the beasts' back. Before him, the beowolf exploded into particles and evaporated before his very eyes. The farmer could only look on, astonished. Arthur beamed the pride from his first slain grimm overwhelmed him. It was this pride that prevented him from seeing the massive paw coming straight for him.


	3. Chapter 2

AN: Hello travelers! Sorry for the delays between chapters, I had some technical issues with my laptop. However, I'm back and have been writing so the next few chapters will quickly follow. Sorry that this chapter is so short, it just seemed thematically appropriate to put a break between this chapter and chapter 3.

Arthur awoke slowly, his eyes gradually adjusting to the light streaming from the window. His head ached as he propped himself up in his bed. He looked around at the plush white sheets covering him. To his left, a girl clad in white robes was making another bed while humming quietly to herself.

"Hello?" he croaked. His throat was oddly dry. How long had he been out?

She jumped at the sound of his voice. "Oh you're awake!" she beamed, turning her wide blue eyes on him.

"Yes um, where am I?" he practically coughed. He put his hand up to his throat, rubbing it to hopefully relieve the pain.

"You're in The Healer's Guild silly! You had quite a bump on your head!" she giggled. "Oh! You probably want some water I'll get that for you right away," she pranced out of the room only to return moments later with a silver pitcher. "Here! Drink this!" she smiled, pushing a silver cup into his hands.

"Thank you," he rasped. Taking the cup in both hands he sipped idly at the cool water. It ran down his throat, curing his sore throat. "So I'm in a Healer's Guild?" he asked looking up at the young woman.

"Yes oh yes! You were brought in by a Captain Aran? Arine? Aransione! He brought you in!"

"Is he still here?"

"Oh yes, he would hardly leave your side. I insisted that he go get a room at the inn, but he flat out refused! How rude!" she huffed. "Anyway, I'll go fetch him for you," she vanished through a large wooden doorway.

Moments later she returned with Captain Aransione in tow. His wide purple eyes accentuated by dark circles indicating sleepless nights. He still wore his golden armor from that fateful night, its gilded breastplate stained in flecks of blood and mud. Immediately on seeing Arthur, he looked practically overjoyed.

"Arthur! It's so good to see you awake! You gave us all quite the scare there with your heroics my boy!" he bellowed. "There was a brief moment when I didn't think you were going to make it!" he chuckled.

Arthur laughed nervously along with him.

At that moment, the healer approached the two. "Arthur, you have another visitor. A woman named Petunia?"

The blood drained from Arthur's face as his eyes went wide. Before he could answer he heard someone bellow from the other room.

"Where is that foolhardy boy?" Petunia's voice practically shook the building. A short, red haired woman brandishing a wicker basket burst into the room.

"Hello mum," Arthur squeaked.

Captain Aransione casually sidestepped her, attempting not to draw her ire.

She marched up to Arthur's bed, grabbing hold of his ear. With one good tug she wretched him down to her height. "Don't you _hello mum_ me young man! What were you thinking? Running off into the dark of night during a grimm attack! Leaving your poor family to fend for themselves! _Then,_ you return only to nearly get sliced into ribbons by a bloody beowolf! You had your father and I worried sick! Molly hasn't been able to eat in weeks! What were you thinking young man?" she scolded.

"I'm sorry mum, I didn't mean to worry you," he apologized quickly.

She let go of his ear, only to pivot towards Captain Aransione. "And _you!_ " she accused, pointing a finger at him. "Who do you think you are? Roping my son into the middle of a battle like he some soldier or something! Have you seen him? He's not a fighter! He can barely chop wood! I swear that if you try to recruit him into your little army of farmers I'll tear that fancy armor of yours apart with my bear hands! Understand?" she jabbed her finger into his breastplate.

"I understand Mrs. Periwinkle."

A smile replaced her scowl. "Splendid!" She retrieved a loaf of bread from her basket and gingerly set it on Arthur's night table. "That's for you love. 'Fraid it's not fresh, but it's still tasty. Now be sure to eat up. We'll need you back at the bakery as quick as you can," she planted a quick kiss on Arthur's head before waltzing out the doorway.

"Well, she's just as lively as ever isn't she?" the Captain chuckled, pulling up a wooden chair. He separated the stale bread into two halves and handed one to Arthur. "Down to business then. When you and Percy were pressed into service you were unfortunately still serving your sentence. Under the circumstances, I'd like to excuse you but given your previous transgressions the mayor has seen to it that's not possible," the Captain grumbled.

"I'm not going back to jail am I?"

"No, I've devised something different. Something more suited toward your set of skills."

"What did you have in mind?"

The Captain cast his eyes to the floor, his voice lowering. "I won't lie to you Arthur. Grimm attacks have been steadily increasing among border towns over the last few months. What happened to Glenn was-," his voice broke, his good hand going to cover his eyes. "Inevitable. All those people. My friends, neighbors, my family. All dead because of my inability to act. I thought I had more time," he began to sob. He looked up at Arthur. His eyes puffy, tears welling up in the corners. He cleared his throat and wiped his face. "Needless to say, we can't defend the village with the people we have left. Our losses were too great, if we were to be attacked again I fear for the worst. We were lucky you were able to rally reinforcements from Lemongrass but we need soldiers if we are to defend our home. I need you to go to the Capitol."

"The Capitol? I can't go to the Capitol. I've got to help my mum and dad."

"Arthur, the entire _village_ needs your help."

"Well, can't you just send a bird?"

"Our messages routinely go unanswered, in these dark times I fear that they may be getting attacked by grimm. Even if we were to get attacked, you're not a warrior. What you are is fast, quite possibly the fastest person I've ever seen. I need you to send word to the Capitol."

Arthur looked into his still bleary eyes, silently begging him. He sighed. "Alright when do I leave?"


End file.
